Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 394: Squeezing Angela’s Fat Ass

One arm encircled her waist as I drew her closer, moving with intentional slowness to make the embrace stretch out. Angela's fingers played lightly with the strands at the base of my neck, her form fitting smoothly against mine from long familiarity. The glow from the flames coated her skin in a golden sheen, rendering the instant personal and somewhat staged.

Mira's stare held for a beat longer than necessary. A fleeting look passed over her expression—uneasy, hesitant, a subtle trace of jealousy or feeling sidelined.

She moved away without a sound, inching nearer to Lisa on the patch of grass.

Lisa casually slung an arm over her shoulders in quiet support, giving a gentle, comforting press.

Mira settled into the gesture, though her gaze kept flicking toward us—Angela's head resting on my shoulder, my palm placed low on Angela's hip—until she dragged it back to the fading glow of the fire.

Deep within, a dark, satisfied thrill pulsed quietly.

The charm of the pizza had eased her tensions, filled her with thanks, kept her hanging around our group. Yet this—this subtle show of Angela's possession—awakened another feeling. A soft longing. A doubt she wasn't ready to speak aloud:

Right where I aimed to keep her: near enough to sense the heat, distant enough to yearn for closer ties.

Angela planted a relaxed kiss along my jawline, then murmured just audible to the others, "Let’s not scare her off, hmm?"

I let out a quiet laugh, my gaze fixed on Mira. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

I shifted completely to face Angela, guiding her down until she sprawled over me like supple silk draped on firm metal. Her frame eased into place with a gradual, purposeful twist—her full breasts pressing yieldingly into my torso, peaks already peaked and scraping across the sheer material of her blouse with each light inhale.

Their heft bore down on me, plump and pliant, shaping to my lines as though crafted for this precise touch.

My palms glided downward, following the curve of her back before grasping the rich, curved fullness of her rear—both hands opening broad to seize every inch. I gripped firmly, digits sinking into the soft tissue, working it with a steady, owning cadence.

The flesh of her curves overflowed my hold ideally—yielding but resilient, heated and quivering faintly beneath the force.

I tugged her pelvis flush against mine, allowing her to sense the swelling rigidity caught in between, rubbing her center along it in a single, purposeful glide.

Angela's breathing caught sharply. Then the sound escaped—a murmur starting deep and husky, swelling into a boldly lustful cry that rippled gently above the snapping flames.

"Husband..." she breathed out, tone heavy with fake objection, "...what are you doing...?" She curved her spine slightly to drive her rear deeper into my palms, urging one more intense grasp. "Mira and Lisa are watching... control yourself..."

She voiced it clearly—on purpose, clearly—every syllable laced with pretended outrage so Mira had no way to ignore it.

I gave a low, rough chuckle, the vibration humming between us. My digits tightened once more, clutching harder, parting her curves a touch via the cloth before rubbing inward with languid, indecent swirls.

The action swayed her pelvis in small, taunting pushes against my length—sufficient rub to pulse her sensitive spot, enough to drench her undergarments if they weren't soaked before.

"Hmm," I breathed against the curve of her ear, words hushed yet audible, "how the fuck do you expect me to control myself... when your ass feels this good in my hands? So full... so greedy for it..."

Angela released another cry—sharper now, outright erotic and without restraint—her legs squeezing my sides as if to hold onto the thrill. Her nails scratched gently at my shoulders.

Suddenly, with overdone abruptness, she drew away, bracing on her arms so her breasts swung pendulously over me, tips pushing obviously against her top.

"Don’t... don’t bully me like that," she complained, nibbling her bottom lip in that feigned bashful manner that always ignited me. Her face colored with a believable blush; her gaze gleamed with playful intent. "You’re terrible... I’m going back to Mira’s side before you ruin me right here..."

She eased away from me at a maddening pace—trailing her breasts along my torso, permitting her rear to graze the span of my hardness once more as she stood. One final, provoking sway of her hips, then she strolled off, rear swinging with each stride like a promise left unspoken.

Mira hadn't so much as blinked.

She remained still as stone, knees pulled close, arms hugging them firmly. Her eyes fixed on the spot Angela had left—on the mark of her shape against me, on my hands still curved from the grasp, on the clear ridge of my excitement bulging in my trousers.

A deep flush rose on Mira’s face; her mouth opened on a quiet gasp. She gulped noticeably, her throat bobbing. Her legs clenched together just barely—chasing friction, chasing ease she wouldn't confess to wanting.

Lisa’s arm lingered on her shoulders, her thumb tracing calming patterns, yet even Lisa’s glance shifted my way with subtle humor.

Angela settled next to Mira with an exaggerated sigh, extending so her head rested close to Mira’s leg. "See?" she joked, extending a finger to nudge Mira’s knee lightly. "He’s impossible. You’re much safer over here with us good girls..."

Mira managed a trembling chuckle, but it sounded faint and winded. Her gaze returned to me—pausing on my lips, my palms, the relaxed stretch of my frame—before jerking back to the coals. She adjusted, locking her ankles, hands knotting in the turf.

I cast Angela a irritated glance—part genuine, part show—squinting as if to say . My length throbbed thick and insistent against my pants' front, the shape obvious in the dim fire glow.

I adjusted my pelvis and let one hand fall casually over the swell, pressing down solidly to conceal it... or perhaps to deliver one unhurried, hidden press for comfort. The touch just made it pulse stronger.

Angela's eyes jumped right to my palm. Her mouth bent into a sly, aware laugh—deep and raspy, the noise gliding across my skin like a caress. She caught her lip briefly, gaze twinkling with glee, obviously thrilled by the impact she'd created.

A handful of tense quiet moments ticked by. The blaze had dwindled to shimmering embers, bathing all in warm, reddish light. Crickets chirped steadily from the blackness past the clearing.

Then Angela extended slowly, bowing her back to raise her breasts and pull at her blouse once more. She stood with smooth, catlike poise, flicking nonexistent blades from her legs.

Turning toward Mira and Lisa—but ensuring I caught every view—she sent me a gradual, secretive wink from over her shoulder. Then, in a tone light and offhand, she declared:

"I’m going to relieve myself... out there in the trees." She nodded toward the dim border of the clearing. "Do any of you want to come together? Safety in numbers, right?"

Lisa rose without pause. She lifted from the grass with a faint smile. "Yeah... count me in. I could use it too."